


The Haunted Dick

by LiquidCaliban



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Spooktober, romanogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27112562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiquidCaliban/pseuds/LiquidCaliban
Summary: After watching a scary movie with the team, Steve discovers an odd problem with his own body.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 15
Kudos: 86





	The Haunted Dick

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just borrow them for fun. 
> 
> Spoilers: Are these really necessary? Timeline is post-TWS, pre-AOU Avengers group at the Tower. Yay. 
> 
> A/N: I have a WIP I'm supposed to be working on but I don't have the energy for managing continuity right now so I wrote a sort of Halloween-y fic to release some creative energy.

Steve didn’t consider himself particularly squeamish. Between being a soldier and an Avenger, he had seen more needless suffering and battlefield gore than most. He was still having trouble with the movie Tony had insisted the Team watch tonight, what with it being October and Halloween season. Even though he’d been shushed multiple times, Steve again interrupted, “Why does this…this _stuff_ even exist?”

Tony turned with a dramatic sigh as he paused the movie, to Clint and Thor’s protestations. “For the eighteenth time, it’s called ‘body horror,’ Cap. Everything from discovering your hand is possessed by an unknown force to turning into a giant bug to this,” he said, waving dismissively toward the screen. “It’s supposed to provoke a visceral reaction of disgust. That’s the whole point. You feel like puking, so that means it’s working.”

“That doesn’t explain why this is classified as entertainment.”

“Hey, ripping people apart and sewing them back together has been a staple of human entertainment since the Romans, at least.” He stood and thrust an imaginary weapon at Bruce while bellowing, “Are you not entertained?”

Clint laughed out loud and Natasha gave a single quiet snort, though she didn’t look up from her phone, where her attention had been focused since the movie had started. He wasn’t sure what she was watching, but he suspected it was better than this ‘Human Centipede’ nonsense. He squirmed closer to her on the sofa they were sharing as Tony resumed the movie. Without looking up from what Steve could now see was a game, she whispered, “Tony was just quoting ‘Gladiator,’ which I think you’ll enjoy much more than this bullshit.”

He grinned, appreciating that he didn’t even have to ask his question to get it answered. “Any chance we can go watch it now?”

“Only if you don’t mind a whole lot of teasing about what we’re _really_ off to go do.”

“Isn’t ‘Gladiator’ just a different movie?”

She rolled her eyes in an affectionate sort of way and turned her full attention back to her game, leaving him to think about what she meant. He felt a blush creeping up his face when he figured it out a moment later. Though he was comfortable with their proximity, he leaned away in case anyone was watching. He couldn’t help glancing at her every so often, though.

Since the fall of SHIELD and finding out about Bucky, Natasha had truly become a friend rather than just a colleague he forced himself to trust. After the team had gathered at Avengers’ Tower to begin the hunt for Loki’s scepter they had only grown closer, having dinners and watching movies and sparring together. She was witty, fun and didn’t mock him for his ignorance over pop culture – that was one of the least endearing things about living in close quarters with Clint, who often disappeared for weeks at a time for missions (probably), and especially Tony, who was always around and never seemed to lay off. When Steve had discovered disco music, for example, Tony had teased him to the point where even Bruce had nearly Hulked out; Natasha, on the other hand, had gifted him vinyl copies of ABBA _Gold_ and the _Saturday Night Fever_ soundtrack to add to his growing collection. She had also helped him pick out an updated record player and set up the wireless speakers so he could enjoy the blend of familiar and new technology.

Steve felt appreciated in ways unrelated to being Captain America when he was around Natasha. He hadn’t decided if this were a good or dangerous thing yet.

He managed to clamp down his nausea through the end of the movie, which was better than Bruce accomplished. Steve made sure to visibly finish his beer as Tony taunted a still-heaving Bruce before slipping off toward his room in the Tower. He wasn’t entirely surprised to find Natasha waiting for him.

She held up a DVD case (he’d yet to make the leap to streaming, finding it more comforting to have a physical copy of the thing he was watching or listening to). “Ready for a _good_ Halloween movie?”

He definitely found ‘Hocus Pocus’ far more enjoyable than Tony’s selection for the night, though Natasha said they’d be watching actual scary movies in the coming days. She’d even promised to go to Mass with him if ‘The Exorcist’ proved to be a bit too much. He was going to have to Google that movie before they watched it.

* * *

Steve finished taping his knuckles and took a stance in front of the heavy bag. After the first minute or so of jogging in place, he felt ready to begin. He tucked his headphones into his ears (a new 80s pop mix Natasha had put on his iPod) and started a series of soft jabs. He soon lost himself in the rhythm of his punches.

He appreciated the privacy of the Tower’s gym, even if he missed the so-called “old school” feel of Lombardi’s Boxing Gym in Brooklyn. He still made periodic appearances there to support Big Al and Louie Left-hook’s advertisement that he was their star client, though he usually spent his time signing autographs and deploying about ten percent of his strength in the ring to put local tough guys in their place.

The Tower’s gym didn’t require him to either be self-conscious or hold back. He could simply hit the bag until he was exhausted or it disintegrated or both. He landed a final right cross that caused the bag to split just as Eileen came on for Dexy’s Midnight Runners. He pulled out his headphones and took a long drink from his water bottle. He began to feel even warmer as Natasha walked into the gym in her very tight and revealing workout clothes. He knew she wasn’t wearing anything immodest by current standards, but…

The situation didn’t improve when she smiled at him. “Hey, Steve. Gimme a few minutes to warm up and I’ll meet you in the ring.”

“Uhm, sure.” He took another long drink of water. A quick glance at the clock told him that this was around the time they usually met to spar. He started to stretch, keeping one eye on the mat where she was contorting herself into increasingly flat positions.

The sudden stirring in his boxer briefs wouldn’t have been as disconcerting if not accompanied by an unexpected voice. _Damn, what I wouldn’t give to be inside that._

“What the hell?” he demanded, only to see Natasha looking at him curiously.

“Something wrong?”

“Did you hear something?”

She popped an earbud out. “Nothing unexpected.”

“Oh. Right.” He pretended to take out his own headphones, already knowing that he’d done so a few minutes before. When she’d gone back to her stretching, he tried to focus on his own preparation, in spite of the fact that his situation had only grown to the point that it was now noticeable at the front of his sweatpants. He begged under his breath, “Not right now. Not now. Not the right moment.”

_C’mon, man. Gimme some action. She’s hot and I wanna get with her._

“Shut up,” he hissed.

_Yeah, good luck with that. If we gotta be stuck together, you gotta start treating me better._

“Who are you?”

_I’m your dick._ His erection twitched in time with the revelation.

“That…that’s not possible.”

_Why not? You’ve neglected me too long. I can’t stand it anymore._

This was some kind of weird nightmare. Steve gulped the rest of the water from his bottle in a few quick swallows and closed his eyes tightly, hoping to wake up at any moment. He made the mistake of looking at Natasha, currently doing a split with her upper body stretched out perpendicularly. He was getting harder by the moment. He moaned under his breath, “No, please, no. This is not the time.”

_This is SO the time. Take her. Rip her pants off and let me at her!_

“No!”

“Steve?” Natasha asked, pushing herself to a standing position in a moment. “Are you okay?”

“What? I mean…did you hear something?”

“Hear what?” she asked, now looking genuinely concerned.

_Hear the potential for skin on skin action?_

He ignored the voice, climbing into the ring and leaning against the ropes in the hopes that his traitorous organ might be hidden. He wasn’t sure that she leaned over to stretch her hamstrings out of necessity or because she’d noticed his situation and given him a moment to settle down. He began shadowboxing with his back to her in spite of the uncomfortable bouncing it produced below the belt.

By the time she gracefully slipped between the ropes after an extended period of stretching and even a run on the treadmill, he had regained control and stopped hearing the strange voice in his ear. Their sparring session still ended early, with Natasha besting him every time. Despite her repeated takedowns, he remained confident that he could handle any adversary in the field. After all, he wouldn’t ever have to fight an army of Natashas.

Hopefully.

* * *

Steve stirred the pasta in the pot so it wouldn’t stick together, per the instructions on the blue box. He was used to consuming more calories than everyone around him to satisfy his enhanced metabolism, but he wasn’t quite up to cooking his own meals from scratch – at least not in the communal kitchen where he’d likely be mocked relentlessly for the inevitable trial and error of learning a new skill. He’d found that combining pasta with pre-cooked meats allowed him to satisfy his appetite. A box of mac and cheese mixed with some rotisserie chicken was pretty filling. He vigorously stirred the pasta as the water boiled so it wouldn’t rise over the rim of the pot, then carefully mixed the milk, butter and cheese powder into the drained pasta to make his mac n’ cheese dinner, which, when combined with a bag of Purdue rotisserie chicken strips, would prevent him from assaulting delivery people out of starvation for a few hours.

He sat down at the kitchen counter with a bottle of water and started to eat, only to hear a sound behind him. He turned to see Natasha getting a yogurt from the refrigerator. “Oh, hi.”

“Hey. Mind if I join you?”

“Uh, no. Sure.” He tried not to stare as she walked over and took a seat beside him. She’d changed from her workout clothes into jeans and a soft, fluffy-looking sweater. She’d obviously taken a shower and her still-damp hair was curling at the ends. He fought down the temptation to twist it gently around a finger by taking a big bite of his food.

She chose that moment to turn to him and ask, “Everything going okay?”

“Urgh…” He remembered to swallow before actually answering, “What…what do you mean?”

“You just seemed distracted earlier in the gym. I just wondered if you had something on your mind.”

He took a long drink of water to give himself a moment to think. The best response he was able to come up with was, “Nope. I’m fine.”

“Okay.” She went back to her yogurt and he quickly demolished his meal. Picking up his bowl and bottle, he also grabbed her spoon and empty container with a smile. It wasn’t until he was leaning over the dishwasher that the trouble really started. He felt the unwelcome stirring in his pants just as she said, “If you ever do feel like there’s something you need to talk about, you know I’m here, right? I mean, beyond the pop culture stuff. If you just want to unload or anything like that…”

“N-no. I mean yes.” He straightened, but didn’t turn fully, just looked over his shoulder to say, “I know I can talk to you, Nat, and I appreciate it.”

_More than talk!_ He hoped his gasp was hidden by his abrupt decision to lean over and reorganize the bottom rack of the dishwasher, but his dick went on, _Don’t keep denying it. Go for it! You saw the way she was licking that spoon, didn’t you?_

He hadn’t, at least not consciously, but he remained focused on his task until Natasha said, “Well, I’ll see you later. Let me know if you want to watch a movie. A good one, I mean.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

He couldn’t help but look up when she walked away. _Just imagine how that ass would look bouncing up and down on me. You should do her in front of a mirror so you can watch._

He’d never suspected his imagination could be so dirty. Nevertheless, he rushed back to the privacy of his suite in the Tower to temporarily resolve the issue at hand.

* * *

Steve managed to avoid Natasha for almost two full days, though his traitorous dick still reared its swollen head at inconvenient times, twice while he was in the gym and again when he was trying to read a book about the Vietnam War in the main living room. No amount of self-care seemed to be enough to satisfy it. Him. Whatever. Steve was on the brink of considering some kind of serious psychological counseling – if only there were a way to get a referral without explaining the circumstances! – when his door chime rang.

He opened it to find Natasha leaning against the frame. “Hey. I talked Bruce and Thor into watching ‘Beetlejuice’ upstairs, if you’re interested. Thor’s making the popcorn, so maybe bring your own snacks.”

“Oh. Um…” He waited a moment, but there was no awkward blood flow beginning. “Yeah, I’ll be right up.”

The popcorn wasn’t as burned as he’d feared, thanks to a new air popper in the kitchen, so Steve settled onto the sofa beside Natasha with a bottle of water. The Maitlands had just discovered they were dead when he realized he’d made the wrong choice. Just he tried to sink into himself he heard his dick say, _Try slipping an arm around her shoulder. Then see how it goes slipping me inside her._

He squeezed his eyes shut, murmuring, “No, no, no….”

_Yes! Let her get all up in here and…_

“Steve, are you hearing something strange right now?” Natasha suddenly interrupted.

“What!?”

Rather than asking again, he felt her fingernail scraping in his ear canal. “Nat…what the…?”

Before he could ask what the heck she was thinking, he found himself staring at the strange patch of skin-colored material she was stretching from her nail. “JARVIS, implement protocol Beta Omega Triple-6.”

“Acknowledged, Agent Romanoff,” the AI butler replied.

“Can I see that bottle of water, Steve?” He handed it over without a word. She swirled it around, then squinted at the base. Still not calm enough to stand up, Steve resisted Natasha’s attempt to pull his arm. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Stark’s lab to find out how he’s been fucking with you for however long.”

“Should we stop the movie?” Bruce asked innocently.

“No, but change the feed to the security cameras in the lab if you want some live entertainment.”

Steve managed not to ask any questions until they arrived outside the glassed-in lab, where Clint suddenly pretended he hadn’t been trying to force the door open. He shrank back when it opened smoothly at Natasha’s polite request to JARVIS. “Oh, uh, hey, Nat. Stark did something that got us locked in here and, uh…oof!” He doubled over as she punched him solidly in the stomach.

“I’ll deal with _you_ later. Stark!”

Tony popped up from behind a workstation. “Ah, Natalie. I see you’ve resolved the little glitch in the system that completely sealed that lab and shut down all outside communications. How _did_ you convince J to give you that shutdown code?”

“First you’re going to explain this.” She held up the bottle of water and the small thing she’d found in Steve’s ear.

“Uh, you want me to explain water and your hand?”

“Stark…” she growled, causing him to cringe though she was only flicking the little thing onto the table in front of him.

“Oh, _that_. Now that is a new biopolymer receiver that I’ve been working on so we’ve got more reliable communications in the field. One little patch in the ear that’s almost impossible to damage or displace. Pretty nice, huh?”

“How did it get in Steve’s ear?”

“Might have been transferred via his headphones.” He barely dodged as she threw the bottle of water at him. “Definitely got there because I put it on one of his earbuds, but that was just to test the best method of application. Worked like a charm, huh?”

She wasn’t distracted. “And drugging the water? You just thought you’d slip Steve some Viagra for shits and giggles?”

Now Steve was shifting from confused to angry. “You drugged me?”

“Nothing dangerous with your metabolic advantages! Just a little prank! It was actually Birdbrain’s idea, so maybe include him if you’re gonna start punching.”

“Oh, hell no, Stark!” Clint shouted from – wait, when had Natasha mag-cuffed him to the lab table? “You were the one who wanted to test your little ear doohickey by fucking with Cap.”

“Yeah, but making him think his dick was talking to him was all you!”

“You were the one who got on that whole body horror bullshit that even made me think…”

“Stop!” Steve demanded. “Do you mean to tell me that…that I’ve been hearing a strange voice and getting,” he glanced at Natasha and felt himself blush, “er, aroused at inappropriate times because of you two?”

Tony scratched his head without making eye contact while Clint shrugged, “When you put it that way…”

“Alright,” Natasha said calmly. “You will both suffer appropriate punishments. Later.” Before Steve could ask why not now, she turned to him. “Let’s not let all that Viagra coursing through your system go to waste, hm?”

As she grasped his hand and led him from the lab, he heard Clint sigh. “Some fuckin’ prank. Cap’s getting laid and we’re getting toes amputated.”

Steve suddenly lost all interest in his righteous anger, eagerly following Natasha to his quarters.


End file.
